Authors: S. J. Bolton
Evi checked her spelling, added a comma and pressed Send. Steve Channing was a sort of informal supervisor, a more
experienced psychiatrist to whom she often turned for advice on difficult cases. Of course, he’d know from the date and time on the email that she was working on a Saturday night, but … well, she couldn’t hide from everyone.
‘H
OW
DID
SHE
GET
UP
THERE?’
WHIMPERED
TOM,
UNABLE
to take his eyes off his tiny sister, balanced precariously twenty feet above the hard stone floor of the church. No one answered him – why would they? – it was a stupid question. The only important thing was how they were going to get her down.
‘Stay where you are, Millie. Don’t move.’ Harry was running back towards the church door. They heard his footsteps on the stairs that led to the gallery. He’d be in time, he had to be. Harry’s footsteps stopped and they heard the door that separated the gallery from the stairs being shaken in its frame.
‘You are kidding me,’ came Harry’s voice from behind the door. Then the church echoed with the sound of loud banging. Harry was kicking at the door from the other side.
‘They’ve locked the door,’ said Joe. ‘He can’t get to her.’
Scared by the noise, Millie looked down at her brothers. Then she held out both arms and Tom’s stomach turned cold. She was going to jump to him, like she did from the back of the sofa. She was going to jump, confident that he’d catch her, like he always did. But there was no way he could, not from that height, she’d fall too fast. There was nothing, absolutely nothing they could do, she was going to fall and her head would shatter on the stone like glass.
‘No, Millie, no, don’t move!’ Both boys were yelling up at her, watching in horror as the toddler lost her balance on the narrow
ledge and tumbled forward. As Joe began to scream, Millie reached out and grabbed the rail with one hand. At the same time her feet, still wearing pink party shoes, found the smallest of footholds on a slim ledge that ran around the edge of the gallery.
‘Shut up, you two, shut up now,’ hissed Harry, who’d joined them again. Tom caught hold of Joe and pulled his brother to him. He hadn’t realized both of them had been yelling so much. Joe clung tight and somehow the boys managed to stop screaming.
‘Millie,’ called Harry, in a voice that Tom could hear shaking. ‘Keep still, sweetheart, hold tight, I’m coming to get you.’
Harry looked at both sides of the church and seemed to be making up his mind. Then he turned back to the boys.
‘Get the hassocks – the prayer cushions,’ he said. ‘Get as many as you can and put them down on the floor, directly underneath her. Do it now.’
Tom couldn’t move. He couldn’t take his eyes off Millie. If he looked away for a second, she’d fall. Then he was aware of Joe scurrying around at his side. His brother had already taken three hassocks from their hooks in the pews and had put them on the ground beneath Millie.
Tom shot round and began gathering more from the pew opposite. As he pulled them off their hooks, he hurled them through the air at the spot where Millie would land. He threw six and then sped back to the aisle. Looking up, he positioned himself directly beneath his sister’s plump legs and pink shoes and began arranging the cushions to form a soft carpet. If they could only get enough, the hassocks would break her fall.
Out of the corner of his eye Tom could see Harry pull himself up on to the window ledge and then move sideways until he could reach the gallery rail. How he was going to get up higher, Tom had no idea, but Harry climbed mountains in his spare time – if anyone could do it, he could. Tom just had to concentrate on the hassocks. Joe was following his example and throwing them over the top of the pew. As fast as they landed, Tom placed them next to the others. Millie’s crash mat was getting bigger.
‘No, sweetheart, no.’ Harry’s voice was strained with the effort of climbing. And of trying not to panic. ‘Stay where you are,’ he was calling. ‘Hold tight, I’m coming.’ Tom paused for a second and
risked looking up. Harry was clinging, like a huge spider, to the carved panelling that lined the rear church wall. If he didn’t slip, he’d reach the balcony rail in a few seconds and be able to climb over. Another second would take him to Millie and she’d be safe.
They were seconds he might not have. Because Millie had spotted Harry edging his way towards her and was trying to get to him. She’d moved along the ledge and was no longer directly above the hassocks. And those chubby fingers of hers had no real strength. She was sobbing hard. She couldn’t hold on much longer. She was about to fall. And she knew it.
E
VI
WAS
LOOKING
AT
GILLIAN
ROYLE’S
MEDICAL
RECORDS.
When she’d accepted Gillian as a patient, they had been forwarded to her, following normal procedure. Luckily, the GP’s surgery Gillian attended had been one of the first to become fully computerized. Even the old paper-based records from the girl’s childhood had, at some time, been inputted on to the system.
She’d read them already, of course, before her first appointment with the girl. Was there anything she’d missed?
‘He’s a cheating bastard,’
Gillian had said.
‘My stepdad was the same’
More than once now, Gillian had become edgy on the subject of the men in her life. Several aspects of the girl’s character – her cynicism about men and sex, her sense of being a victim, a sort of unspoken belief that the world owed her something – were all making Evi suspect there was some history of abuse in Gillian’s past.
Evi scrolled back to the early records, when Gillian had been a child. She’d had the usual immunizations, chickenpox as a three-year-old. She’d visited her GP shortly after her father’s accidental death, but no medication or follow-up treatment had been prescribed.
At the age of nine, Gillian had started to attend a different surgery in Blackburn. The change probably coincided with her mother’s remarriage and the family’s moving away from Heptonclough. Gillian’s visits to the GP at that time had increased in frequency. She’d complained often of unspecified tummy aches,
causing her to miss several days of school, but investigations had found nothing wrong. There had also been a series of minor injuries a broken wrist, bruising, etc. It could indicate abuse. Or it could just suggest a lively, accident-prone child.
When Gillian was thirteen, she and her mother had moved back to Heptonclough. Gillian had been prescribed the contraceptive pill at a very early age – a couple of months short of her fifteenth birthday – and had had a pregnancy terminated at the age of seventeen. Not an ideal scenario, but neither was it untypical for a modern teenager.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, she had plenty of other patients. Evi stood up again. She glanced towards the bathroom. The door was open and she could see the cabinet.
It was completely dark outside. Would there be dancing up in Heptonclough right now? Evi hadn’t danced in three years. Probably never would again.
‘W
E
HAVE
TO
MOVE
THE
CUSHIONS,’
TOM
URGED
HIS
brother. ‘Help me push them.’ On their hands and knees, he and Joe began to slide the hassocks along the floor. But they didn’t move smoothly across the uneven flags; as they hit bumps and nicks in the stonework, they separated.
‘Keep them together,’ yelled Tom, not daring to look up, as he and Joe frantically tried to push the hassocks back into place. He had no idea whether they were under Millie or not, he simply didn’t dare look up because he knew if he did he’d see his sister’s body hurtling towards him.
‘’Ow the fuck did she get up there?’ said a voice from across the church. Tom glanced up to see that Jake Knowles and Billy Aspin had silently entered the building. Both were staring up at the vicar and the toddler in fascination.
Harry was getting closer to Millie, who was still clinging to the balcony rail. Something hit Tom in the face and he looked round to see Jake and Billy in the third pew down, collecting hassocks and throwing them at him.
‘You’re miles out, dickhead,’ called Jake, his eyes fixed on Tom’s but his pointed finger switching from the balcony to the floor. ‘Six inches that way.’
He was right. Tom began pushing the cushions to the left, as Joe worked hard to keep them together. They were joined by Billy, who
started to double them up, while Jake carried on throwing them like missiles through the air.
Then he heard a thumping noise above him and caught the scream before it left his mouth. Billy, Jake and Joe were all looking up. Harry was in the gallery, talking softly to Millie as he made his way slowly towards her. He was about five strides away … four … three … Tom held his breath. Harry reached out. Tom closed his eyes.
‘He’s got her,’ said Jake. Tom exhaled as his eyes opened. There was no dead sister, bleeding on the stone floor in front of him. It was over. Jake was looking at the hassocks, scattered over the tiles.
‘Suppose we have to put this lot back now,’ he said.
‘Boys.’ It was Harry’s voice, coming from above them, sounding like he’d just run a race. ‘Millie and I can’t get down until we find the key for this door. Can someone look in the vestry?’
For a moment, Tom couldn’t remember where the vestry was. At the front of the church, he thought. He turned and stopped dead. Blinked and looked again. Nothing there. But for a second he’d been sure. To one side of the organ, her thin body pressed against the pipes, someone had been watching them. A little girl.
T
HEY
WERE
LEAVING
THE
CHURCHYARD:
THE
MAN
WHO
seemed to be in charge of the church now and Millie’s two brothers. And the mother too; not Millie’s mother, she was still running round the family’s garden, shouting and making a huge fuss. No, this was the other mother, the one who’d appeared from nowhere just as the children and the man had left the church. She was carrying Millie in her arms as they turned down the hill.
Millie’s parents had seen them. They were running towards the group. Everyone was talking at once, looking at Millie, patting her head, hugging her close. They’d been scared, had thought they’d lost her. They’d take better care of her now. For a while.
2 October
‘A
T
FIRST,
FOR
A
FEW
MINUTES,
IT
WASLIKEI
WASBACKIN
the old nightmare again, do you know what I mean? My little girl was lost and I had to find her. I had to go out and walk the moors, calling and calling, until I found her.’
‘It’s OK, Gillian, take your time. Give yourself a minute.’
‘I couldn’t think properly. I just wanted to scream.’
‘I understand,’ said Evi. ‘It must have been dreadful for everyone, but especially for you.’ Yet another search on the moors for Gillian: first Megan, then Hayley, now this latest – Millie, was she called?
‘It was,’ said Gillian.
‘Take your time,’ Evi said again. Should she mention the search for Megan? She hadn’t heard back from her supervisor yet.
‘But then it was like someone flicked a switch and I could see clearly again. The worst had already happened to me. I had nothing to be afraid of, so I was in the best position to help. I know all the hiding places around the town. I’ve been checking them all just about every day for nearly three years and I knew I had the best chance of finding her.’
Gillian had been out shopping since Evi had last seen her. She was wearing black trousers that looked new and a tight black sweater. Her skin was improving all the time.
‘We’ve plenty of time, Gillian,’ she said. ‘Forty minutes before we have to stop. Do you want to tell me what you did?’
‘I went out looking,’ answered Gillian. ‘On my own, in the dark, because I’m used to that. I walked along Wite Lane, past our old house, up through the fields towards the Tor. Then I came back again because I saw lights on in the church.’
‘That shows great strength of character,’ said Evi. ‘That you were able to take part in the search, after everything you’ve been through.’
Gillian was nodding, still excited. ‘And it felt really good, you know, when I saw Alice and Gareth and I had Millie in my arms. They were so grateful and—’
‘You found the little girl?’
‘Yes – well no – not exactly. I found all four of them, coming out of the church. They were all in a bit of a state. Tom was arguing with his brother about something to do with little girls. I took Millie off Tom because I was worried he was going to drop her. I didn’t notice Harry at first. He was leaning against a wall and in his black clothes he was pretty hard to see.’
Evi picked up her water glass from the desk and realized she wasn’t thirsty. She kept it in her hand, swirling the water around. ‘And the little girl had just wandered off?’ she asked.
‘To be honest, no one’s sure what happened. Millie’s too young to tell us. The official line is that she followed some bigger children out of the party and then found she couldn’t keep up.’
The glass was distracting Gillian. Evi made herself put it down. There was a paperclip on the desk. If she picked that up she’d start twisting it in her fingers. It would be another distraction.
‘And the unofficial line?’ asked Evi, finding herself curious.
‘The family have had a few run-ins with a local gang,’ replied Gillian. ‘Who were hanging round while it happened, apparently. The Fletchers think perhaps they took Millie, maybe as a joke, and then it all went wrong. The police have been up but none of the boys has admitted anything. Everyone’s just glad it ended the way it did.’